


Silence Is Golden

by The_Arkadian



Category: Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Arkadian/pseuds/The_Arkadian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes talks too much. Watson decides to do something about it. Features hypodermic needle, handcuffs and dark!Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence Is Golden

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on the LJ shkinkmeme community:http://community.livejournal.com/shkinkmeme/5516.html?thread=8433548#t8433548
> 
> "Holmes does talk quite a lot, does he not? At some time, it just has to get on (dark!)Watson's nerves - his solution, since practically any gag can apparently be cast from the mouth, given the time is using a drug that paralyses Holmes's vocal cords/tongue. Holmes, naturally, is not amused.  
> It's up to the writer to decide how Watson manages to administer the drug (tying up / in sleep / whatever) and what Watson does with the thus incapacitated/unable to protest Holmes."

Watson sat in his chair, silently drumming his fingers on his knee with irritation.

Holmes had been pontificating for the best part of an hour now on the precise mechanical workings of the new set of handcuffs he had invented and enumerating the various ways in which they were vastly superior to those currently in use by Scotland Yard.

As his voice droned on, a thought occurred to Watson; a rather unpleasant one and therefore all the more attractive for that.

"Holmes," he interrupted as the detective paused for breath, "Those handcuffs do look most marvelously fiendish. Do you think you could perhaps demonstrate them for me?"

"I'd be delighted to, dear chap!" replied Holmes enthusiastically; Watson could positively see his ego swelling like a fat loathsome toad under the praise. "Let me just-"

Watson snatched the handcuffs out of Holmes' eager hands, and snapped one bracelet firmly around a slender wrist.

"Oh - well, yes, of course, I could demonstrate them upon _myself_ if you insist," remarked Holmes dubiously.

"I do," replied Watson tersely as he pulled Holmes' wrist up to one of the gas lamp brackets upon the wall, throwing the other cuff over it before fastening Holmes' other wrist. Then he stood back to admire his handiwork. Holmes was stretched up on tiptoe, chained to the bracket by his own invention and looking rather uncertain of himself.

"You see they are quite secure," he said slowly, glancing up at his manacled wrists. "And, I must say, a trifle uncomfortable."

"Indeed, you don't say?" remarked Watson, bending over and rummaging around in his gladstone. He straightened up with a small bottle of amber fluid in his hand, from which he drew up a dose into a long-needled hypodermic.

"I say, old cock, what's that for?" asked Holmes, sounding distinctly nervous. Watson smiled darkly as he advanced towards Holmes. He pressed his hand firmly against Holmes' breastbone as he placed the tip of the needle against the hollow of Holmes' throat. He glanced up at Holmes and raised an eyebrow at him as Holmes' eyes widened in sudden fear.

"Any last words?" he quipped.

"Oh God - Watson, whatever I did to upset you, I'm sorry! Please, put that down and can't we- _augh!_"

He screamed thinly as Watson slowly and deliberately thrust the needle into his throat, the sound tailing off into a choking, gurgling noise and then silence as the doctor depressed the plunger. The doctor stepped back and cocked his head to one side, smiling as Holmes twisted helplessly in his manacles.

"Ah, blessed silence!" he smiled, and returned to his chair. He sat back with a broad smile to finish reading his paperback naval novel in peace.

Behind him, Holmes screamed silently.


End file.
